


Chances

by EmpressVegah



Series: Love Without Borders - 365 Days of USUK [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Mayuge Day, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 13:52:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2390684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmpressVegah/pseuds/EmpressVegah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Self-conscious Arthur Kirkland has been secretly waiting for that someone to arrive, to tell him that he is just fine the way he is — he doesn’t need to change anything about his looks or his personality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chances

**Author's Note:**

> Drabble entry for the USUK 2014 Drabble Calendar project in Tumblr (March 3rd, Mayuge Day).

“ _Hey look, it’s the eyebrow monster!”_

“ _Ewwww, those aren’t eyebrows, they’re caterpillars stuck on your face!”_

“ _Why don’t you go and have those nasty hairs shaved?”_

“ _Who would want to date someone with such mean eyebrows?”_

“ _The young man with thick eyebrows, I want you to solve the problem on the board.”_

Ever since Arthur was a child, he was always identified by his thick, prominent eyebrows; a hereditary trait the Kirkland offspring got from their father. Everywhere he went, he had always been remembered because of his eyebrows.

If Arthur was to be honest, he didn’t like his eyebrows at all.

Sure, if he were in public, he was proud of them and he would defend the thick strands of hair situated right above his eyes to anyone who would even just stare a heartbeat longer at his face.

But they caused him mighty grief. He had suffered numerous bullying incidents during his childhood, when he didn't have enough spunk to defend himself from those older and bigger children. When he grew old enough to fight back, he had already decided to not care of what other people said about his eyebrows. He sometimes wondered how his older brothers faced the bullying, but then they weren't really the ‘bullyable’ types – big brutes that they were.

Though no matter what Arthur thought or said, he would still be affected by the words people uttered about his prominent eyebrows, the looks sent on his way, especially by strangers who were seeing him for the first time.

Even his melodramatic frog classmate from high school, Francis Bonnefoy – very unfortunate for Arthur – often made loud and unbearable proclamations of how his unsightly eyebrows would hurt his beauty-oriented eyes, telling him often to shave them off to do the world a favor.

So Arthur had grown to dislike them so much he often thought of going to the salon just to get those shaved or threaded — anything to make himself more presentable. But somehow, something always stopped him from take a step inside the beauty establishment. A little voice that often spoke of romantic words to him, telling him that if someone truly liked him, they would totally accept everything he was, including his hideous eyebrows.

He had been secretly waiting for that  _someone_  to arrive, to tell him that he was just fine the way he was — he didn't need to change anything about his looks or his personality.

But Arthur had been waiting for so long that he had forgotten all about it; he already had a decent-paying job as an editor-in-chief in one of the local magazines. Twelve years of relying on a faceless person to boost your self-worth — Arthur was over it now. He had become successful on his own efforts, even if he only came home to his fat cat. He wasn't lonely. Really.

So when someone accidentally bumped into him when he exited the tea shop he often frequented — causing the tea he was holding to spill on the ground — he didn't think anything of it, except that whoever did that had to pay. That person apologized profusely to him, with his blatant American accent grating in his ears. Arthur finally snapped, “You git! Watch where you’re going! Now look at what you’ve done to my poor tea!” His angry scowl caused his eyebrows to meet between his forehead, and he then noticed that the obnoxious git was staring at his face.

He suddenly felt conscious. Putting a hand over his forehead to hide his eyebrows, Arthur hissed, “What are you looking at?!”

At this, the American’s blue eyes widened, and he immediately raised his hands to placate the angry Briton. “No! No, I’m not staring at your eyebro—ah, I mean, I’m sorry, I’ll replace the tea!” But Arthur only glared at him more, clearly unimpressed by his attempt at making amends. The American sighed, his shoulders sagging. “I really think they’re cute,” he murmured, looking away.

At this, Arthur blinked before a blush took over his face. No one had ever said that his eyebrows were cute — everybody had thought that they looked ugly on him. But here the stranger was, thinking that they looked cute. Not just ‘okay’, but ‘cute’.

Silence consumed them for a few moments, before the tall American looked back at him and offered his hand, “I’m sorry ‘bout the tea, and I’d like to replace it?” He smiled at him, a little bashful, a little hopeful. Arthur just couldn’t say no to that face.

"W-well, if you’re so insistent in replacing the tea you’ve spilled, then be my guest!" Arthur huffed, but the pink dusting his cheeks didn’t subside. He blamed it for the partially cold weather.

They walked back to the tea shop, Arthur looking away while the handsome American was whistling a tune. While falling in line, the noisy American suddenly said, “The name’s Alfred, by the way.”

Arthur cleared his throat, “Arthur.” The line moved forward and Alfred rocked on his heels while Arthur told himself to stop sneaking peeks at Alfred.

"I still think they’re cute, Arthur. Those eyebrows, I mean," he commented out of nowhere and Arthur unconsciously touched the hairs on his forehead. "Not too confident about ‘em, huh?"

Arthur wasn’t sure what made him nod to Alfred’s observation, considering that they’re practically strangers. “What was that tea I spilled?” Alfred asked him, and Arthur looked up to see those blue eyes staring back at him. He swallowed and answered, “Earl Grey. A dash of milk, no sugar.”

The cashier told Alfred the total amount and he took his wallet to take out some notes and placed them on the counter. “Your appearance doesn’t define who you are,” Alfred offhandedly said, and Arthur’s eyes widened as the little voice that whispered romantic things came back after lying dormant for years, telling him that something good would come out of this.

"Here, your tea," Alfred offered him the cup, and Arthur reached out to take it, inhaling the calming aroma of his favorite tea. They exited the tea shop and Alfred waved him goodbye, walking at the opposite direction Arthur was heading to.

The little voice was getting louder now, telling him of things he would regret if he didn’t act now. Arthur gritted his teeth, and before he could lose his nerve, he called out, “Alfred!”

The American was already a few meters away, but he heard Arthur’s call and turned to look at him. Arthur walked primly, albeit a bit nervously, towards the only person who told him such wonderful things about his life-long insecurities. Stopping just a few feet from Alfred, Arthur took a deep breath and said, “I think we should catch up sometime?”

Alfred blinked once, before laughing out loud, taking out his cellphone in the process. “I thought I was the only one interested,” he said with a grin, and Arthur’s heart fluttered in his chest.

Maybe he wouldn’t be so lonely anymore.


End file.
